Seen
by eprime
Summary: Post-Hogwarts. Sirius learns to see Remus in a new way.


It wasn't until after the four of them had left Hogwarts and settled into their shared flat in London that Sirius found himself really in trouble. Remus had discovered London charity shops, and with the small allowance his parents still insisted on sending him as well as the small salary he pulled from his part time job in a muggle second-hand record shop, Remus was able, and surprisingly eager, to cast off the sedate trousers, sensible loafers, and muted cardigans of their Hogwarts days and replace them with a wardrobe of worn jeans, tee shirts with faded Clash logos, and scuffed but serviceable combat boots.

It was frightfully disorienting really.

And then Remus had come home one day with his shaggy hair cut short and spiky, grinning at Sirius and James as he flopped onto the sofa and propped those combat boots up on the coffee table. James had ruffled his hand through the spikes and called him Sid, while Sirius had just sat there and gaped wondering how it was that Remus had become the one of them that embodied the height of cool.

Those fucking boots. Something about them really got under Sirius' skin, made him lose all his ready wit and fumble to keep the threads of conversations that went on around him. Remus gave him funny looks and James threw him glances that were much too speculative.

When Remus came home wearing a brown leather dog collar Sirius wanted to punch him. He didn't notice right at first because it was dinner time and Peter was floating plates and forks to the table and James was unloading take away cartons. Sirius was popping the tops of the butterbeers and he kept his eyes on the job as he heard the now familiar clomping of Remus' boots.

"Hullo, lads." Remus dangled a bag in front of James' nose on his way to the fridge. "Brought treats for afters. Ice cream and treacle tart for Jamie and Chelsea buns for Pete."

James exclaimed and let the spoon he was using to dish out curry clatter to the table. "Haven't had that in yonks, not since Hogwarts." He threw his arms around Remus' waist as he shut the pint of ice cream up in the freezer and swung him around in a clumsy dance. "Moony. Moony. You're _my_ treacle tart."

Peter snickered and levitated the rest of the tableware over their heads and down to their proper places. "Thanks, mate. Mind if I don't kiss you, though?"

"Not at all." Remus grinned, wiping James' sloppy kiss from his cheek and shoving James toward his chair.

Sirius grit his teeth as Remus brushed up against him to drop the bakery bag on the counter. "All right?" Remus nudged him with his shoulder.

"Oi! Padfoot, hurry up, will you? How long does it take to pop four bottle caps?"

"Sod off!" Sirius fortified himself with a glare at James then finally looked sideways at Remus. "What'd you bring me then?"

"Asks the bloke who cleaned out the last of my Honeydukes stash."

"Are you going to hold that against me forever?"

"Wait until after dinner to find out."

Remus' cheeky grin made Sirius laugh and he thought, relieved, all right, this is normal, I can do this. They grabbed the bottles and sat down at the table with James and Peter.

"What's that?" Peter asked around a mouthful of rice. He gestured with his fork at Remus.

"What? Oh, this?"

Sirius clenched his fist tight around his own fork as Remus stuck his thumb underneath the collar around his neck and tugged once. He looked a little sheepish.

"Someone at the shop gave it to me. Said it suited me."

"We should get a matching one for Padfoot." James smirked at Peter. "We can get two leashes as well and maybe that way we can train the bad doggies to keep their feet off the furniture and not to lick their balls in public."

Everyone except Sirius laughed, and Remus used a spoon to chuck a gobbet of curry sauce at James. "I'm a wolf, not a mangy mutt, thank you."

A beat too late, Sirius managed a laugh. "Oi, I've never done that in public! Well, much." As an afterthought he added, "And I'm not mangy!"

The rest of dinner was just as off and they often had to call his name more than once to get his attention. He ate his food automatically, barely tasting the curry. The leather collar around Remus' neck was simply too distracting. It didn't make sense. Frankly, it wasn't Remus. It wasn't, because Remus wasn't leather collars and boots and lanky boy dressed in tight jeans and shirts that showed a thin sliver of skin when he leaned back in his chair and stretched.

Remus was safe and steady and, yes, all right, clever and wicked and sly when he wanted to be, but he was, or at least used to be, familiar and sane and just _Remus_. But now, with that stupid collar showing up so starkly against the pale skin of Remus' throat, which should smell of parchment and ink not _leather_, Remus was something different and strange.

James pulled Sirius aside as Remus dished out the treats.

"What is with you?"

"Nothing." Sirius scowled.

"You've been staring at Moony this whole time."

"What? I have not!"

"Yes you have, and not just now. Other times lately, too."

"You're mental." Despite the cool look of disdain Sirius was wearing, on the inside he was scrambling. He hadn't realized he'd been so obvious. This whole stupid thing was really getting to him.

"Am I?" James said skeptically. "Look, maybe we can all go out tonight to the pub. When's the last time you took a girl out?"

"What's that have to do with anything?"

James looked uncomfortable, uncertain, for once, but he lifted his chin and met Sirius' gaze straight on. "I know...I know in school you sometimes fancied other blokes." He held up a hand as Sirius swelled up, indignation and panic flaring in his eyes. "I _know_ you like girls, as well," James whispered fiercely. "But I noticed things. McClaggan, the Ravenclaw quidditch captain. Look, he was a fit bloke. I could see why you might fancy him a bit. Those magazines from the world cup when they did the spread on the finals. I mean, it makes sense in way if...if you swing that way. But this is _Remus_."

Sirius opened his mouth but not a single word came out. He never expected to be having this conversation with Prongs, at least not like this, not prompted by..._fuck_.

"You think I fancy Remus?" Sirius was horrified and pale and furious. He kept his voice a harsh whisper, though, and shot James a look that could kill.

"Yes." James was still wearing that infuriating expression, all stubborn determination to make Sirius see the truth or the error of his ways or some such rubbish, and now Sirius wanted to punch him, too. "It's all right, Padfoot, if you...if you like..." His expression flickered a bit here, but he took a deep breath and nodded as if convincing himself. "You like blokes, and that's all right. Just...Moony is your mate, a really good mate, you can't...fuck that up."

Part of Sirius was offended that James assumed Sirius would fuck things up if he were (which he wasn't) interested in getting with Remus. Another part of him was terrified that James was even bringing up this topic at all because Sirius was fairly sure he wasn't ready to talk about it or even admit to any of it.

"I _don't_!" He grabbed James' arm and leaned in to make his point. "I don't fancy Moony, so just shut up about it."

Peter called from the kitchen, but Sirius didn't look away from James.

"I _don't_."

"Right. Fine." James stared back unwavering. "The pub tonight, then?"

"Fine," Sirius gritted out.

The world really had turned upside down because Remus had a girl on either side of him. Pretty ones, too. One of them was cooing over his hair and running her fingers through the short spiky tufts. "Have you ever thought of dyeing it?"

Sirius ignored the girls at his side vying for his attention and scowled at her. "What's wrong with his own color?"

She looked at Sirius in surprise and stammered. "Nothing, I just...it's-"

"It's all right," Remus laughed. "Don't think I could pull it off, really."

Sirius agreed emphatically.

"Oh no," the annoying cow gurgled. "You definitely could."

James kicked him under the table and Sirius turned his scowl to him.

"Actually, back at school." Peter broke in. "James and Sirius put a po-a dye in Remus' shampoo one time and he ended up with bright pink hair that lasted a week."

Everyone laughed.

"Definitely not my color," Remus said ruefully.

"You looked very fetching," James protested. "Didn't you think so, Sirius?"

Sirius only just contained himself from wiping the smirk from James' stupid face with his fist.

"You wouldn't have recognized Remus back then," Sirius said nastily. "He was a right little jumper-wearing swot who never bothered getting a haircut until his fringe was down to the tip of his ink-stained nose."

Everyone stared at Sirius in surprise and he felt a hot flush creep up the back of his neck. He knew he was being an arse, but he didn't know where it was coming from. James probably. James and his stupid ideas putting him off-center.

Finally, Remus laughed. "It was Scotland, I liked my jumpers. The winters are _cold_."

"And the springs and the autumns," Peter added.

"Just because James and Sirius liked to prove their manhood by the dubious method of streaking naked across the grounds, didn't mean some of us," Remus pointed from himself to Peter, "weren't gifted with a bit more common sense."

"Oi!" James cried. "That was _once_!"

Amid the laughter, Sirius slouched back against his seat and sulked.

Later, they'd all decided to sober up a little by walking back to the flat, without the girls as Sirius had managed to insult them well enough they'd fucked off to a table full of muggles wearing some ridiculous uniform that Remus said they wore to play a boring sounding game called football. Typically unoriginal. Sirius almost felt ashamed of the thought that could have come from his mother, but he wasn't in the mood to be too self-chastising as James grabbed him again and hissed in his ear that he better stop acting like a yob and stop ogling Remus to boot.

"Fuck off." Sirius jerked his arm away. "Tosser."

"Ponce!"

Sirius threw a punch and they all stared gobsmacked until James hurled himself at Sirius with a loud cry. It wasn't until Remus had his arms wrapped around Sirius' middle and he was yelling in his ear for Sirius to calm down that Sirius really understood how fucked he was. He could feel the leather of Remus' collar digging into his shoulder as Remus held him tight. James was flailing on the other side of an astounded Peter who had his hands pressed against James' chest as he looked by over his shoulder at Remus.

He could _smell_ Remus. Sweat and beer and leather. He turned his face toward Remus' neck, inhaling the scent as if he were Padfoot. _Fuck_. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He wrenched away and stumbled down the sidewalk a few steps, then spun around to look at them all staring at him like he'd gone mad. Perhaps he had.

He started laughing. Down the street it echoed and he couldn't stop.

"You all look so...so..." He gasped out the words and kept laughing, and after a moment they started laughing, too.

"You're a raving nutter, mate," James said, coming up to give him a hard punch on the arm.

After that Sirius paid more attention to what he was doing. He forced himself to act the way he always had before, and not get jumpy and half-witted anytime Remus came into the room. Weekends were the easiest because Remus liked to pad around bare-footed in his pajamas all day. It was almost like having the old Remus back, and Sirius could happily sit across the kitchen table from him munching his breakfast and trading insults over the pages of _The Prophet_ they all divvied up.

Even James had backed off and Sirius had just started to relax again when something happened that shattered his false sense of security. He was sprawled in front of the coffee table one evening playing a game of chess with Peter, and James was in the kitchen talking too loudly on the telephone he'd insisted they have installed so he could communicate with Lily the muggle way as she was staying at her parent's house. Remus was late from work, and when he finally came in he collapsed onto the sofa behind Sirius with a weary sigh.

He gave Remus a perfunctory greeting and concentrated harder on the game. It was his turn after all. After a while, James came in and Peter started making snoring noises so Sirius gave him a dirty look and moved his bishop. He listened for a while to Remus tell James a funny story about a customer, leaning his back against the edge of the sofa and then just letting the sound of their voices wash over him.

It was nice to hear Remus' voice like this. He hadn't had a real conversation with him since all the weirdness started and Sirius missed it. Closing his eyes, he let his head tip back against the cushions. Not until Sirius noticed that everyone was silent did he open his eyes and see that all three of them were looking at him.

"What?"

James' eyes flickered down and Sirius followed his gaze. He had his hand wrapped around the back of Remus' leg and was sliding it up and down his boot in an absentminded caress. He froze for a moment, then pulled his hand away slowly.

"I'm knackered," he said. "Think I'll take a nap before dinner. Mind if we finish this later, Pete."

"Sure," Peter said.

With as much nonchalance as he could muster Sirius fled for his bedroom.

He woke up what felt like hours later to find Remus sitting on edge of the bed.

"You missed dinner."

Sirius made an inarticulate grunting sound and tried to swallow the dryness in his throat away. Remus handed him a glass of cool water. It felt heavenly flowing over his tongue and down his throat.

"So, is it just the boots and collar in general? You really like leather? Or..." Remus ducked his head a little as Sirius focused his eyes on him, and Sirius could see a faint pink blush creeping up his neck. "I mean, if James or Peter showed up tomorrow kitted out in leather trousers would you..."

"First off," Sirius croaked, swallowed, and tried again. "First off, if Peter showed up in leather trousers I'd laugh my arse off."

He watched the corner of Remus' mouth twitch up.

"Second, I've seen Prongs kitted out in his Quidditch gear plenty of times and all that leather did nothing for me but make me want to shove him out the nearest window because he always left his sweaty, smelly gear all over our room for us to trip over."

Remus laughed outright.

"Third." Sirius paused and considered. "It's the combination of the boots and collar and our Moony that...that...well, made me take notice."

The red was spreading over Remus' face again.

"So if I went back to wearing jumpers..."

"I'm afraid the damage has already been done," Sirius said gravely. "I can't unsee you that way now."

"You've been acting like a bit of an idiot." Remus said with equal gravity.

"Are you...are you angry?"

"When I saw how much you stared at my boots I went out and bought the dog collar myself."

"You...oh."

Sirius stared at Remus as he finally raised his eyes to look at him again.

"Really?"

"Yes."

"James thinks I'm going to fuck things up."

"James is a bit of an idiot as well."

Sirius grinned. "True. True."

"Sirius?"

"Yes?"

"I'm going to snog you now."

Remus rolled onto the bed, getting his big dirty boots all over the covers of course. Somehow Sirius wasn't too fussed. The spiky hair really was nice to stroke and the collar very handy for tugging Remus closer and keeping him from ending the kiss too soon, not that there seemed to be much danger of that.

"I'll get you one, too," Remus finally murmured, grinning against Sirius' mouth. "A big, thick black one with shiny silver studs because I know you like to be an ostentatious bastard."

The idea was, not so surprisingly, alluring, but Sirius let his lips curve into a smirk. "Pervert."

Remus laughed low. "Oh, Padfoot, you have no idea."


End file.
